MTL - Quick Transmigation and Doted on His Wife - Chapter 13 System Upgrade

Cairn is a prince who is already tired of ruling. Faced with an imminent coronation and an overbearing father, he wants nothing more than to drown his responsibilities in cheap liquor and poor decisions. With the help of his sister, he hatches a plan to escape the clutches of the throne once and for all. It all goes terribly wrong, and Cairn finds his priorities shifting in the face of unimaginable tragedy. The change of heart comes too late, however, and Cairn dies. He reawakens to find himself transported ten years in the past. He immediately begins to plan for the future, only to discover his killer has somehow followed him. To succeed, Cairn must unite the kingdom and discover the motivation of his killer, using as many tries as it takes. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++I exhausted pretty much every time loop story ever written and decided to write my own. You'll see a few similarities here between this story and some existing stories, at least initially. There's a lot of inspiration drawn from both MoL and Re:Zero, though in terms of pathos and darkness, this story leans more towards the latter. Be warned, it is something of a slow burn. The main character will grow and become powerful, but a theme of this story is that power comes slowly and often at great cost.

In the Bog forest, dangers were in every corner. During the nighttime, the thick white mist blinded the eyes and the chilling air froze you to the bones. Once morning arrived, thousands of ferocious mutated animals as big as the hills roamed for prey.

Among them lived the weakest species on the Meer Continent, the Monster Species. They only survived with their tough bodies in the midst of a world ruled by magic power.

To the mage, they were simply pests that were easy to be exterminated.

To avoid the eyes of the mana rulers, they had to hide in secluded places; in the caves shrouded by shadows or in the dark underground where filth was brimming. But, continuing to hide was not a solution.

When warbeasts sharpened their claws, elves polished their weapons, humans feasted on their greed, and demons searched for prey with their thirst, an orc named Moku was born.

Moku was a world MMA champion who transmigrated into the body of an orc in the magical world. He had always dreamed of possessing superpowers; being able to jump beyond the clouds, shattering the mountains in one hit and running faster than sound.

Moku dreamed of having these powers. He used rituals, magical lore, and all the things that were considered myths and fairy tales in his home world to make him and his tribe stronger.

A promise was deeply engraved by him. One day, he would bring the war to those who underestimated them.

I am the only person free from the control of the Status Window.

*

Just a word from me, and my status window is gone.

To be more precise, an error occurred when I took over the possession of the body.

“Ah, why didn’t the dragon drop a single artifact?”

Thanks to this, I am gradually distanced from humanity.

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”